Post by syvern on Oct 25, 2018 7:33:00 GMT -8
“Are ya sure I can't convince you to stay on?” The grizzled boat captain, Theo, asked the man sitting across from him.
“Aye, I'm sure, this is not where my path goes.” Syvern answered.
The captain let out of a sigh and counted out a stack of coins, “Well I may not know what ya are but I don't know if I'll ever find someone as useful as you again.”
Syvern shrugged and stood picking up the stack of coins and dumping them into a pouch on his waist. “I'm sure you'll find someone Breag.”
His looming form ducked under the doorway. He gave a wave to the men on the deck and was down the gangplank to the dock without another word.
He looked around the bustling area, near a head taller than most and began humming a shanty. His tattered coat waved in the small breeze revealing nearly just as tattered shirt and trousers. The only seemingly reasonable article of clothing we're a pair of scuffed leather boots.
He stroked the months long beard he'd grown and the same length black hair. Perhaps a haircut was in order. If this place had such a thing if not he'd managed long hair before. Just wasn't particularly his favorite.
He worked his way through the crowd and away from the docks, to head deeper into the city. Stopping at a man unloading crates of various bottles to purchase a cheap bottle of whatever it was.
Popping the cork and taking a swig he sighed. “Well what kind of trouble can I get into here.”
“Aye, I'm sure, this is not where my path goes.” Syvern answered.
The captain let out of a sigh and counted out a stack of coins, “Well I may not know what ya are but I don't know if I'll ever find someone as useful as you again.”
Syvern shrugged and stood picking up the stack of coins and dumping them into a pouch on his waist. “I'm sure you'll find someone Breag.”
His looming form ducked under the doorway. He gave a wave to the men on the deck and was down the gangplank to the dock without another word.
He looked around the bustling area, near a head taller than most and began humming a shanty. His tattered coat waved in the small breeze revealing nearly just as tattered shirt and trousers. The only seemingly reasonable article of clothing we're a pair of scuffed leather boots.
He stroked the months long beard he'd grown and the same length black hair. Perhaps a haircut was in order. If this place had such a thing if not he'd managed long hair before. Just wasn't particularly his favorite.
He worked his way through the crowd and away from the docks, to head deeper into the city. Stopping at a man unloading crates of various bottles to purchase a cheap bottle of whatever it was.
Popping the cork and taking a swig he sighed. “Well what kind of trouble can I get into here.”
